Strange Tales: The Seventy-Two Arts of the Earthly Fiends

Chapter 29 The Mountain Temple Storytelling Meeting

There are spirits in the mountains, and the villagers often build temples deep in the mountains to worship the gods and pray for their protection.

The temples weren't very large, mostly built with locally sourced mountain stones, situated on hillsides, under ancient trees, or on cliff edges. The wind whistled, and the air was thick with dust.

The incense offerings are most popular on the first and fifteenth of each lunar month. Several elderly women carry bamboo baskets filled with vegetarian fruits and, leaning on their canes, shakily climb up the mountain to burn incense.

Normally, only local hunters come here to rest when they come into the mountains to hunt; basically, no one else comes here.

After landing and walking in the mountains for several days, Song Quyou came across such a mountain temple.

What's unusual is that, even though it wasn't the first or fifteenth of the lunar month, there were already three people in the temple, chatting and warming themselves by the fire.

Song Quyou adjusted his straw hat, slung his sword over his shoulder, and went inside.

The three people inside the temple, seeing someone arrive, were not on guard at all; they simply moved aside to make room.

Song Quyou didn't stand on ceremony. He took off his straw hat and slung it behind his back, placed his long sword across his lap, took out a rice cake from his bosom, snatched a fire poker from a person next to him, poked at the fire, and threw the rice cake in.

After everything was done, Song Quyou took out three more pancakes and handed them to the three men around him, saying, "Look how thin and pale you three are. Eating a pancake will help you gain a couple of pounds."

The three of them accepted the rice cakes without hesitation and placed them by the fire to warm them.

"Judging from his attire, my brother looks like a Taoist priest. Is he practicing on some mountain?"

Song Quyou drank his water and waved his hand, "He doesn't practice cultivation in the mountains; he's just a wild Taoist priest."

As he spoke, the person opposite him tossed him a gourd of wine, suggesting that he drink some wine to warm himself up in the dead of winter.

Song Quyou took the gourd, popped the cork, and the aroma of wine immediately filled the air, making even someone like him, who wasn't much of a drinker, feel slightly tipsy just from the smell. He took a small sip, and the fiery liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach, warming his belly.

"Good wine, it's probably been aged for quite some time." Song Quyou wiped his mouth and tossed the wine gourd back.

The person opposite him revealed a wrinkled face, a mouthful of yellow teeth, and a protruding mouth, looking just like a hairless monkey.

"Young man, you have good taste. This jar of wine was taken from my father's wine cellar when we went out. It's been there for many years, and the old man is reluctant to drink it."

After saying that, the man took another swig, smacked his lips, and looked like he was savoring the taste.

Song Quyou smiled slightly, said nothing more, and simply poked at the rice cakes in the fire with a fire poker. The flames licked the edges of the cakes, gradually baking them to a golden brown, and the aroma mixed with the smoke from the firewood filled the temple.

As dusk fell, a cold wind blew outside the temple.

Song Quyou took out the baked rice cakes and waited for them to cool. He noticed a swallowing sound to his left and glanced at the man on his left. He had a round face and round ears, drool at the corner of his mouth, and his fine teeth were unconsciously showing inside his lips.

The man on the right seemed normal. He took out a wine pot and a cup from behind him and poured himself a cup.

The man on the right noticed that Song Quyou was looking at him and smiled, "Young brother, would you like to try my yellow wine?"

By the firelight, Song Quyou looked at the man, half of him charred and half of him sinister, and said with a faint smile, "I'm not used to your yellow wine, you should enjoy it yourself."

After being rejected, the man simply smiled, took a sip of his drink, and looked quite pleased with himself, without saying anything more.

The four remained silent, staring blankly at the bonfire in the center that kept exploding.

The cold wind outside the temple had stopped, but the moon had not yet appeared, leaving the entire mountain forest shrouded in darkness.

At this moment, the man opposite, who looked like a monkey, suddenly spoke:

"You are all travelers from all directions, and what you have heard and seen must be extraordinary. It is fate that we have gathered here today. How about this, we will each tell a strange and unusual story in the order we entered the temple, to dispel the loneliness of this long night?"

The other three people showed different expressions upon hearing this.

The round-faced, round-eared man was the first to clap and cheer, revealing a set of fine, white teeth that gleamed eerily in the firelight. The man drinking yellow wine to his right merely nodded slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. Song Quyou poked at the fire, remaining noncommittal.

The man drinking yellow wine took over the conversation, sipped his wine, and said quietly, "Since you all seem to be in such high spirits, and I was the first to arrive, I'll tell you a strange story that I personally experienced."

"That year, I was trading goods in Lingnan. I had to take a boat along the waterway to various Yue tribes in the mountains and forests. When I passed a place called Shibazhuan, a thick fog suddenly rose from the river. The fog was so thick and sticky that it was suffocating. It was like covering your face with the dough that you made at home during the New Year with too much water. It was suffocating."

Fortunately, the guide who led me was a local with extensive experience. He said that I could navigate the waterways in Lingnan with my eyes closed.

At that time, I relaxed and let him steer the boat, drifting on the winding river until the clouds and mist dissipated. Only then did we realize that we had arrived at a prosperous place that was impossible to find in Lingnan.

The prosperity of that place was nothing compared to that of a royal capital. At that time, we were floating on the river that flowed through the city, looking at the towering buildings on both banks, with their flying eaves and brackets, and the wide, flat streets paved with whole bluestone slabs that gleamed from the rain.

The streets were bustling with people, all dressed smartly, with carriages and horses making a racket. The signs of teahouses and taverns fluttered in the wind. What was most surprising was that not only did they dress like us, but they also bowed and greeted us, unlike the people of Yue.

Seeing such a bustling and familiar place, we discussed it for a while and decided to go ashore to take a look.

Once ashore, our feet sank into the smooth, hard flagstones. The street vendors kept calling out their wares, and when we went up to ask where we were, they ignored us and walked right through us.

We looked at each other, a chill running down our spines. When we reached out to touch the vendor's stall, our hands passed right through the colorful goods, as if touching nothing at all.

We split up and went to different stalls to try them one by one. Fortunately, we did manage to find something; we could still get food and water here.

We discussed it and decided that since we had found food and water, we should take some to fill our stomachs first. After we were full, we could continue exploring the city.

I reached out to grab a sesame seed cake from the stall, and as soon as my fingers touched the steaming hot cake, I could actually feel the temperature.

I quickly took out a coin and placed it on the stall, but the vendor didn't even look at it or notice that one of the flatbreads was missing. The sesame seed cake, however, was already in my hand. I took a bite, and the rich aroma of wheat filled the air; it was truly a delicious treat.

After a satisfying meal, we headed into the city and came across a palace. The palace had vermilion walls and glazed tiles, with various mythical beasts perched on its eaves. The palace gates were wide open, and the guards were strict. I mustered my courage and approached, waving my hand in front of their eyes, but there was no reaction. I tried to pass through their bodies, and it truly felt like passing through a warm, damp mist.

Now that they couldn't find us, we grew bolder and started wandering around the palace aimlessly.

The story abruptly ended. The man poured himself a cup of yellow wine, downed it, and then chuckled mysteriously:

"Guess what I saw in that palace?"